It Took a Month
by Aerle
Summary: A series of accidental meetings that Benn suspects aren't that accidental.
1. Summer Showers

Written for the Sharethelovemonth 2016. The story will be updated every week based on that theme. Week one: Summer

Thanks Myladyday for beta'ing and for suggesting the title.

* * *

The downpour had come very suddenly. Five minutes ago, the sky had been blue without a cloud in sight. When it had started to cloud over and suddenly became dark, Benn had hoped in vain that he would manage to get home in time, but he had barely finished that thought when the sky burst open. In the few seconds before he could take shelter underneath a covering, he was already drenched. At first, he still saw some people scurrying by, some had been clever enough to bring an umbrella, though those didn't seem to help against this rain. Within a few minutes, the street that was normally bustling with life had become completely deserted.

Benn was weighing his options. Would he wait here, assuming the shower would be over soon, or would he run home and change when he got there? He was already wet, so what was the worst that could happen? However, when a clash of thunder suddenly sounded, he decided to wait a little after all.

A splashing sound of footsteps in puddles came closer, and Benn found himself in the company of a very drenched, yet very handsome, man. The man wiped his bright red hair back from his face with both hands in a ridiculously sexy manner, in Benn's opinion, before he turned to Benn.

"Man, I did not see _that_ coming."

Benn assumed he was referring to the sudden downpour and hummed in agreement as he eyed the man. He seemed to be a few years younger than Benn and was very handsome, as Benn had already determined, with red hair and brown eyes. There were three parallel scars across his left one, which no doubt had an interesting story behind them.

The man dusted himself off in a vain attempt to get dryer. It only served to distract Benn, however, as his abs shone through the wet white shirt he was wearing, which was sticking to his body. "It would seem that it would have been better if I had invested in a raincoat. Well, I suppose most raincoats wouldn't stop this downpour either."

"Even umbrellas don't stand a chance," Benn agreed, intrigued by this man. He seemed to be up for a chat, though, and Benn didn't mind the company. "This is two seconds in the rain." He gestured towards himself. Of course, he wasn't nearly as wet as the man in front of him, who looked like he had just swam across the ocean, but he was wetter than he'd like.

The man grinned at him. "Usually, these showers only last until you're drenched or until you get home, but by the looks of it, this one could take a while. I don't mind the rain," he continued when Benn hummed again, "though I prefer the ones from autumn or winter, when it's cold."

"How so?" Benn inquired.

"Well, when you get home, you're cold, so you take off your clothes and do _things_ to get warm," he flashed Benn a grin when he said "things", "but with these summer showers, you don't know what's rain and what's sweat anymore."

Benn stared at his companion for a while, considering what to say. They had only just met, not even exchanged names, yet the man talked to him like they were old friends, or even old lovers. The innuendo had implied as much, in any case. "I'm Benn," he finally said.

"Shanks," the man replied with a grin. "Say Benn, I think I see a café over there." He pointed further down the street. "It might be more pleasant to wait until it gets dry over a cup of coffee. My treat," he added as in afterthought.

"As a… date?" Benn chanced to ask. Shanks was hard to read, so he couldn't be sure what his intentions were.

"As two guys drinking coffee," Shanks replied. "You're not one of those people who has to label everything, are you?"

Benn let out a snort and gestured with his head towards the café. "Let's go then." He offered Shanks his coat that he wore despite the heat, as he had on a hat himself, which should stop at least some of the rain.

Shanks flashed him a grin in thanks, pulling the back of the coat over his head as it didn't have a hood, and trotted after Benn. When they arrived at the café, Benn held open the door for Shanks so he could scurry inside, before following him to a table. Inside the café, it was dark, though it was light compared to outside. Even though it was only five 'o clock, it looked like it was night already. Despite the rain, or perhaps because of it, there were hardly any other clients aside from them.

Shanks took off Benn's coat again and hung it over the radiator to dry, even though it wasn't on, as if was still warm outside, almost tropical. When he was done, he slid into a booth without hesitation and made an inviting gesture to the seat in front of him. Benn hung his hat on the old fashioned hallstand that was standing in the corner before joining him.

A waitress, who had been drying glasses at the bar looking utterly bored, hastened herself over to them. "What's it going to be, boys?" she asked cheerfully.

"I'll have a coffee, thank you," Benn said.

"I'll have what he's having," Shanks said in turn, "but Irish."

The waitress snorted. "Is there anything you don't drink Irish?"

"Scotch," Shanks replied immediately with a wink.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Coming right up."

Benn watched the exchange between Shanks and the waitress with interest. To be honest, he had had the feeling that Shanks had been flirting with him, but it was obvious he knew the waitress, and their interaction could be flirtatious, at least the wink. "Are you a regular here?" he asked.

"Makino and I are old friends," Shanks replied and waved at the woman. "She owns this place."

Benn hummed in reply.

"What," Shanks asked with a grin, "are you jealous?"

Benn snorted. "We hardly know each other. Besides, you said this wasn't a date."

"Doesn't mean you don't want it to be," Shanks said, his grin widening, and he thanked Makino when she put two cups of coffee, sugar and milk on the table.

Benn rolled his eyes. To him, Shanks was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. He seemed confident enough about his good looks, obvious in the way he carried himself, and he seemed to suspect that Benn was attracted to him – which, in all honesty, he was. The only thing he couldn't figure out was if Shanks was just great at reading people, or just assumed everyone was attracted to him, which would make him a douche.

"Excuse me," he said when Makino was about to leave, ignoring Shanks' words, "do you know how long the rain is going to last?"

"Is he already driving you crazy?" she asked, amused, as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Even Mihawk lasts at least through one drink."

"Oi, I resent that!" Shanks objected, a slight pout on his face. It should have looked ridiculous on a man his age, but Benn had to admit he looked somewhat adorable.

She ignored him, turning to Benn. "It looks like it might rain all evening."

Benn sighed. He had been afraid of that. Through the window next to their booth, he looked outside at the raindrops streaming down. There was still no one in sight, and Benn couldn't blame them. This was no weather to go outside. Another clash of thunder sounded, and Benn consoled himself with the fact that at least the muggy air would clear up now. Maybe it would even cool off. They had had hot weather all week.

"How about we have some dinner too?" Shanks interrupted Benn's thoughts. "Makino's cooking is the best and I'm a bit peckish."

Only now Benn remembered that he had skipped lunch because he had been too busy at the time and had only had a quick breakfast because he had been running late. It was then that this body demanded a bit more sustenance than the small biscuit that came with the coffee. "Sure," he said.

"Makino!" Shanks called, louder than necessary in the empty café. When he had her attention, he held up two fingers with a grin. "Two menus, please."

She brought them over, exchanging a look with Benn. Shanks was just grinning like an idiot.

"How about some wine too?" he suggested.

Benn looked at him suspiciously. "I thought this wasn't a date."

"I never said it wasn't," Shanks said with a shrug. "I mean, of course it is. I just don't like to label things." He waggled his eyebrows before focusing his attention on the menu.

Benn stared at him, stunned, wondering when this day had taken a turn. It had started relatively normal, except that he had overslept, something that he usually didn't do, which caused him to almost miss breakfast, and then he had missed lunch. In all, it had been a crappy day, especially since he had argued with his boss and the project he was working on didn't go well. Shanks was the first nice thing that had happened to him, even if he was a little strange. Strange was actually nice, since it meant a break from Benn's usual routine. Smirking slightly, Benn sat back as he decided he would see where the evening would take him. He definitely would not mind getting Shanks to know better.

"It looks like you've decided what you want," Shanks said with a grin matching Benn's.

"Oh, I have." Benn didn't break eye contact as he spoke.

If possible, Shanks' grin grew even more. "Let's stick to what's on the menu for now, shall we?"

They talked for a while longer, as they waited for their food and during the meal. Benn was starting to enjoy the day more by the second, despite the fact that raindrops were still sliding down the glass of the window and the fans inside did nothing to chase the warmth away.

It was late by the time they decided to call it a day. Shanks stood up and patted himself down in search for his wallet. When he didn't seem to be able to find it, he reached into his pockets, slightly panicking, especially when he returned empty handed.

"Okay, I know how this is going to sound, but…" he started, trailing off with a sheepish look on his face.

Benn sighed and reached for his wallet. He didn't know Shanks well enough yet to decide if this was on purpose or not. After all, Shanks did say it was his treat.

"That's okay," Makino said as she started to clear the table. "I know Shanks well. I'll make sure he pays next time." There was an underlying threat in her voice, even if she sounded cheerful as ever.

He nodded at her in thanks and went to the hallstand to retrieve his coat and hat. Outside, it was still raining, and Benn sighed. His clothes had just dried.

"I did really lose my wallet, you know," Shanks' voice suddenly sounded behind him.

"I'm sure you did."

"Look, I said it's my treat and it will be. Just for tonight…" For the first time since Benn met him, Shanks seemed to be hesitant. "I need to take the train home," he finally admitted after a moment of silence, "which I can't do without my wallet."

Benn took a second to look at him and consider his options. There were two things he could do. Well, at least three, but two without being a dick. It was obvious that Shanks wanted something from him. Either Benn could buy him a train ticket home, probably never to see him again, because he was pretty sure that wasn't what Shanks was aiming at.

For the second option he had to take a chance. His house wasn't too far away and he did have a spare room which he hardly used. He looked from Shanks to the door. They had had a nice evening together, whether this had been a date or not.

Benn cut the knot. He opened the door and gestured with his head outside. "Come on," he said, "it isn't far."

The disappointment disappeared from Shanks' face and was replaced by the grin Benn already knew so well. Without hesitation, he gave a wave to Makino, who looked after them, shaking her head and a smile on her face, before hurrying after Benn.


	2. Ex Marks the Spot

Thanks MyLadyDay for beta'ing and making suggestions

Theme week 2: History

* * *

 **Ex Marks the Spot**

It had been a week since Benn had met Shanks. After he had taken him home, not much had happened as they had both gone to bed, and the next morning, when Benn had checked if Shanks was awake, the guest room was empty, a note lying on the pillow saying that Shanks had apparently remembered where he left his wallet and had gone to fetch it. No number or address, no way for Benn to contact him.

He had been disappointed to say the least, as they had had a great night together, in Benn's opinion. He didn't date much, and even if he was roped into this one under false pretences, he had rather enjoyed himself. Not to mention Shanks had to be the hottest guy he had seen in a long time, so he wouldn't have minded if they had seen more of each other.

As it was, Benn was annoyed by the fact that Shanks had left without saying goodbye or giving him means to contact him. Benn hadn't given him his number either, and the fact that Shanks knew his address didn't help as he hadn't showed up on Benn's doorstep.

Perhaps Benn had read too much into the whole thing after all. Maybe Shanks had just wanted some company for dinner and a place to stay once it became evident that he had lost his wallet. If he had lost it at all. Benn had to admit he was a bit of a sceptic when it came to strangers, but in this case he seemed right to be. After all, if Shanks had really been interested, he would have at least waited until Benn was up as well to say goodbye in person.

Still, Benn couldn't forget about the night and that annoyed him to no end. For some reason, his thoughts kept drifting to their date and, not very helpfully, to the image of Shanks joining him soaking wet under the covering, his clothes clinging to his obviously well trained body.

It was starting to affect his work, which Benn really couldn't allow that right now. His boss was an ass, to put it mildly, and was constantly on his case about articles. Benn was a journalist, writing for the local newspaper. He preferred to write long, in-depth articles, but according to his boss, those were too expensive, as it took too long to do the research and give a well-informed opinion. Benn constantly butted heads with his boss, which was why the evening with Shanks had been such a welcome distraction. Unfortunately, it now proved to be a distraction while he was at work.

While Benn's job was to research people, he hadn't looked for Shanks that way. Not only because he only had a first name and description to go on, but he was also pretty sure he would be crossing a line there if he wanted to get romantically involved with him. However, it did get him to think. He hardly knew anything about Shanks.

The longer he thought about it, the more sure he became that Shanks had deliberately not talked much about himself at dinner. He had never mentioned a job, even when Benn had spoken of his, nor had he talked about anything else that said anything about him. As a matter of fact, Benn had done most of the talking. Somehow, Shanks had charmed him into speaking a lot more than he was used to.

Finally, Benn couldn't take it anymore. There was one way of finding out more about Shanks, and that was how he found himself in front of the same café where he had been with Shanks only a week ago. The temperature had fallen since the rain storm, fortunately, and it was actually pleasant outside.

Taking a deep breath, Benn stepped into the dark café. It was lighter than it had been a week before, courtesy of the sun that was shining in abundance. There were several people sitting at tables, and soft music was playing in the background.

Makino was drying glasses behind the counter, as she had been the last time he was here. Benn wondered briefly if she would recognise him, when she turned to him with a smile. "Hi there," she greeted him friendly. "You're Shanks' friend, are you not?"

"I wouldn't go as far as calling us that," Benn replied. His words came out more bitter than he had intended, and her eyebrows rose.

"I see," she said, beckoning him over and pouring him a cup of coffee. "What has he done now?"

"He left without a word."

She hummed as she continued to wash glasses. "That sounds like him."

"Do you know him well?" Benn asked hesitantly.

"I should think so," she said, "considering we used to date."

Benn almost spat out his coffee.

She chuckled. "I didn't mean to startle you. Don't worry, it's ancient history. But Shanks does have a tendency to disappear and reappear at his convenience."

Benn remained silent as he took another sip of his coffee.

"Listen," Makino leaned on the bar with her elbows, "believe it or not, he's into you. I've seen it. He might have disappeared for now, but he'll definitely come back for you."

"So I'm supposed to sit here, waiting like a damsel in distress?" Benn asked, slightly annoyed.

Makino let out a snort, immediately covering her mouth in embarrassment at the sound, and coughed to cover it up. "I'm sorry, that image was very amusing. But I'm afraid that is all you can do if you're interested in him as well. Which I'm assuming you are, otherwise you wouldn't be here." She winked at him.

"Can't I just call him, like a normal person?" Benn asked with a sigh. He was still irritated by the situation, as he didn't like not being in control of something.

Makino shrugged. "I don't have his number, and I doubt he even has a phone. You can leave your number here, though, and I can give you a call if he shows up."

She handed him a block note and pen, and as Benn wrote down his number, he wondered if Shanks was worth all this trouble.

* * *

Benn exited the train when it had pulled into the station. The platform was busy with people who exited the train like Benn did, or who wanted to enter it. With a sigh, Benn elbowed his way through the crowd. He was working on a story about corruption in the police force – in his own time, of course, as his boss wouldn't allow him to 'waste time' during work hours – and he had been visiting a source in another town. It had been a fruitful meeting, but the travel had been long and the train had been busy, so Benn had to stand all the way and couldn't even work on his story.

It left him grumpy and dying to sit down.

In the station hall, it was a little less crowded, as several trains had just left, including the one Benn had gotten out of, and he felt like he could finally breathe.

From the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw a flash of bright red, and even though he told himself it couldn't be Shanks, he looked anyway. Much to his surprise, it was in fact Shanks, and he was hugging a blond man.

All things considered, it did nothing to improve his day. He was still annoyed with Shanks and the fact that he was embracing another man made Benn wonder if he had forgotten about Benn already. He had no real reason to be jealous, as they hadn't even kissed, but it still irked him. Despite the fact that he wanted to demand answers, he also felt spiteful, and as it appeared Shanks had already moved on, Benn decided to do the same.

Keeping his head turned away from Shanks and the other guy, Benn moved hastily past them, or at least he tried. A stream of people going in the other direction forced him closer to the two. He had almost passed them, when a voice suddenly called after him.

"Benn!"

Even though he could have continued walking, Benn stopped in his tracks, ignoring the glares he got from people who bumped into him. Something inside him wanted answers after all, or perhaps just to see Shanks one more time. As he turned around, Shanks had run towards him.

"I found my wallet," he said, grinning proudly as he held it up.

"Fantastic," Benn replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and Shanks' face fell.

"Ouch," an amused voice sounded from behind him. The blond man had joined them, standing in a relaxed pose with his hands in his pockets.

Shanks turned to Benn. "You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad," Benn replied.

"You do sound a little mad," the blond man pointed out unhelpfully.

Benn closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I just think you could have said goodbye when you left in the morning."

The blond man clacked his tongue disapprovingly. "That's not very nice, leaving without a word after you had sex."

"We didn't have sex," Shanks replied.

The man snorted. "That's a first."

"You're not being very helpful."

"Not trying to be."

Benn watched the interaction with interest. From what he had gathered, Shanks and the man seemed to have a history together, if their banter was anything to go by. Additionally, the man didn't seem bothered by the fact that Benn and Shanks might have had sex only a week before. So perhaps they were only friends?

Shanks checked his watch. "Damn, I have to catch my train. But this is not over!" he called over his shoulder as he ran towards the correct platform.

"Yeah, I think it is," Benn muttered and turned to leave.

"It's not, though," the voice of the blond man said, and Benn turned towards him. He flashed him a grin and held out his hand. "I'm Marco, by the way."

Benn took his hand hesitantly. "Benn."

"Yeah, I figured. Shanks hasn't shut up about you since you two met, which is why I know it's not over."

Benn's eyebrows rose. "I don't have a say in that?"

Marco shrugged. "Sure you do. All I'm saying is that you haven't seen the last of him, because he's into you."

Benn just stared at him for a while. "Who are you?" he finally managed to ask.

"Me?" Marco grinned. "Just an old friend. And former lover."

Benn closed his eyes and sighed. He should have known.

"Look," Marco continued, "I can give a whole speech about how he's a great guy, or how he's amazing in the sack, and it would all be true, but he'll prove that to you eventually himself. If you let him, that is."

"And what if I don't?" Benn asked, crossing his arms before his chest.

Marco grinned. "Then you'll miss out on an adventure."

"If he's so fantastic, why did you break up?"

"It can't always work out," Marco replied with a shrug. "I fell in love with someone else. But as I said, we're still friends and I want him to be happy. For some reason, he has his eyes on you, even though you're a tad sarcastic. Look, he's not prefect. He can be a big child with about the same attention span. He doesn't have a phone and a tendency to show up when it's convenient for him. But," Marco continued when Benn raised a sceptical eyebrow, "he comes through when it matters. I guess I've given my speech after all. In the end, the choice is up to you, and the only thing I can do is advise you to take the opportunity with both hands. Now, if you'll excuse me, my boyfriend is waiting for me." With that, Marco left, not giving Benn a chance to say anything in reply.

Benn watched him leave, hands still in his pockets, as he made his way to a black haired man who was asleep on a bench. Marco sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around him. The black haired man almost immediately snuggled up to him.

It was, in all, endearing, and it made Benn remember how long it had been since he had been close to someone, though that had never resulted into someone drooling on his chest, as seemed to be Marco's case. However, that didn't change the fact that Benn was lonely.

Shanks was the first man he had been interested in in a long time, so perhaps he should give him a chance. Benn wasn't used to being passive, but it would seem that he would have to wait and see with this one. Now he could only hope that Marco was right as well on the fact that it would be worth it.


	3. Bar Star

Thanks MyLadyDay for beta'ing and making suggestions

Theme week 3: Stars

* * *

 **Bar Star**

The night air around him was cool and pleasant after so many warm days. Benn was sitting outside on a bench, enjoying the peace and quiet around him. He hadn't been able to sleep, even though he was dead tired. He had been working round the clock to get his stories done in time, next to the in-depth articles he was writing. He hadn't even had time to think about Shanks anymore, though of course he was the first thing on his mind now that Benn had taken a few seconds for himself.

Lighting a cigarette, Benn looked up at the sky littered with stars above him. There was not a cloud in sight. Benn took a long drag, enjoying the feeling of smoke hitting his lungs. Sitting here reminded him that he should take time for himself more often, maybe take a vacation. He could use it.

Someone flopped down next to him on the bench, but funnily enough, despite it being the middle of the night, Benn wasn't even startled.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" he merely asked, taking another drag from his cigar.

"Well, it definitely wasn't easy," Shanks replied cheerily. He placed his elbows on the back of the bench. "So, I take it Marco held his 'Shanks is a great guy' speech?" he continued when it became clear that Benn wasn't going to speak anytime soon.

"He does that often?" Benn asked.

Shanks shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know. But you seem less mad at me, so…"

"I was never mad," Benn replied with a sigh. "I just would have appreciated a goodbye. Why did you go all of the sudden, anyway?"

"Like I wrote in my note, I remembered where I left my wallet."

"And where was that?" Benn inquired.

Shanks scratched the back of his head. "It's a long story."

"I have the time." Benn blew out a cloud of smoke.

"Look, the important thing is that I'm here now, isn't it?" Shanks asked.

"I suppose," Benn said, and continued after a brief moment of silence, "Who doesn't have a phone, though?"

"I never said I didn't have one," Shanks pointed out.

"None of your exes seem to have your number."

"That's something else, isn't it?" Shanks grinned.

"I'm just not very keen on waiting until you deign to look me up," Benn said. It came out more bitter than he intended.

"You're a man of action, aren't you?" Shanks turned a quarter on the bench so he was facing Benn. "I can appreciate that. So am I. But I told you it wasn't over, so you knew I'd come eventually."

"I'd like to point out that it isn't solely your decision to make," Benn said.

"I know that." Shanks took the cigar from Benn's hand and took a drag. It would have been smooth as fuck, had he not had a sudden coughing fit. Handing the cigar back, he reached into his inside pocket and took out a hip flask. After a few draughts, the coughing subdued, and Shanks offered the flask to Benn.

After a moment of thought, Benn took it from him and took a sip, making a face when the strong drink hit the back of his throat. "Do you always carry brandy around?"

"No. Only when I'm out of rum." Shanks grinned sheepishly.

Benn let out a snort and handed him the flask back. He remembered now why he had enjoyed spending time with Shanks so much, but it also brought back the bitterness he had felt after Shanks left.

"You're still upset," Shanks observed. "Don't deny it, that frown speaks volumes." He pressed his finger between Benn's eyes. "How about this, we go somewhere for a drink. On me. I have my wallet this time." He took it out of his pocket as proof.

"Why are you trying so hard?" Benn asked, stubbing out his cigar.

"Because I like you, obviously. And you like me too, even if it's only the way I look in a wet, white shirt."

Benn cleared his throat in embarrassment. He hadn't realised that Shanks had noticed him staring the first time they met.

Shanks grinned, before his face turned more serious. "Still, from what I've gathered, you're not the type that is easily attracted to someone, so if you are, I think you owe it to yourself to follow up on it. But you're also the type that doesn't forgive easily, which is why I need to work hard to earn it."

Benn narrowed his eyes as he stared at Shanks. "Is that so?" he said slowly.

Shanks shrugged. "I'm good at reading people. Am I wrong?"

"I do forgive," Benn said after a moment of silence. "You just never apologised."

"I didn't?" Shanks cocked his head to the side. "I suppose you're right." He took Benn's hands in his and looked at him earnestly. "I'm sorry."

Benn nodded approvingly.

"Does that mean you'll go with me?" Shanks asked excitedly.

"I will, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Tell me something about yourself."

Shanks looked at him, a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his face. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Your job. How you got those scars." He pointed at the three vertical lines that ran across Shanks' left eye. "Your hopes and dreams. I don't care. Just… _something_."

Shanks thought for a moment, pursing his lips. "I have a godson," he finally said. "I have a picture of him. In my wallet," he added proudly. He took out the picture and showed it to Benn.

Benn saw a boy of about seven with a scar underneath his left eye and a big grin on his face, and couldn't help but smile himself. The kid looked adorable. "What's his name?" he asked.

"Luffy." Shanks grinned fondly as he put away the picture again. "He's trouble already. Anyway, does that count?"

"Alright." Benn rose and didn't complain when Shanks held on to his arm.

They ended up at Makino's café again, though it appeared she wasn't working this late. To be fair, Benn was surprised it was still open, but he wasn't one to go to bars in the middle of the night usually. Those days were long behind him.

Shanks, however, seemed to feel perfectly at home between the drunk students surrounding them. He did notice Benn's unease, though, and took his hand as he elbowed his way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. A man with dreadlocks was working hard to pour the amount of beer needed to keep the students happy, but he still grinned when he noticed Shanks and gestured with his head towards a door behind the bar.

Shanks flashed him a grin and pulled Benn, who had no idea where they were going, along. It appeared Shanks was taking him to a backroom, where it was much more quiet, especially when Shanks closed the door behind them.

In the room, there was a couch, on which Shanks sat down as if it was his own living room, patting beside him.

With a sigh, Benn sat down next to him. "Do I even want to know?"

"Sometimes I crash here for the night," Shanks said with a shrug. "Yasopp's a friend of mine too."

"Another ex?" Benn asked.

"Nah, Yasopp's as straight as a fiddle."

Benn let out a snort. "I don't think that's the expression."

Shanks shrugged with a grin. "Anyway, are you worried about my exes?"

"No. Marco seemed pretty content with being drooled on by his boyfriend," Shanks let out a laugh at that, "and Makino was definitely over you. Besides, you said it wasn't over with me, right?" Benn added with a small smirk.

Shanks grinned back. "Oh, definitely not." He leaned in and Benn was pretty sure he was about to kiss him, but Benn wasn't about to let that happen. Not yet, anyway. Placing a finger on Shanks' lips, he pushed him back.

"First tell me more about yourself."

Shanks pouted slightly and then sighed. "Ask away."

Benn thought for a moment and then decided to start at the beginning. "Parents?"

"Both dead, divorced before that."

"Siblings?"

"Nope, only child."

"Did you grow up around here?"

Shanks let out a laugh. "I didn't expect to be interrogated." He seemed cheerful as ever, but there was a strange glistening in his eyes, something Benn couldn't pinpoint.

Benn shrugged. "Isn't that what you did with me on our supposed date?"

"Actual date," Shanks corrected him. "And yes, but the difference was that you didn't notice."

He had a point there, as Benn had only realised later Shanks hadn't told anything substantial about himself, after Shanks had left. Perhaps they needed to get to know each other more slowly, without interrogation techniques, subtle or otherwise. There was one question he needed to ask, though.

"What do you want?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Shanks grinned mischievously. "You, of course."

He leaned in once more, and Benn was going to let him, when the door of the room opened and the bartender came in, straight-as-a-fiddle Yasopp, Benn assumed.

"Sorry it took so long. Those kids drink beer as fast as I can pour it," he said plaintively. "I'm Yasopp, by the way." He held out his hand to Benn.

"Benn."

"Ah, I see." Yasopp cast a meaningful look at Shanks, no doubt knowing more than he let on. "Well, anyway, I thought you might like this." From behind his back, he conjured up a bottle of whiskey, which Shanks took gratefully. "I need to go back to the circus." With a dramatic sigh, Yasopp left the room.

"Luffy and Yasopp's son go to the same school," Shanks said as he twisted the cap off the bottle and took a drink.

Benn hummed in reply and he felt the bottle being pressed in his hand, wondering when his eyes had fallen shut. He didn't bother to open them, though, as he put the opening of the bottle against his mouth. The couch moved, and Benn felt the warmth radiating off Shanks as he suddenly sat very close.

"You're tired, aren't you?" he asked, his voice husky and his breath warm against Benn's ear.

Benn hummed again and tried to open his eyes, as he was sure he was missing something spectacular. Once he managed, he realised with a grin he had been right. Shanks was practically in his lap, leaning forward so that Benn could look down his shirt. He considered lifting up his hand to have a feel, but somehow, that was too much effort. All his energy had vanished into thin air. Shanks' mere presence seemed to lull him into a state of comfort.

The bottle was taken from his hand and placed aside, before fingers pulled the tie that held Benn's hair together, down, running through the strands. His hair was starting to grey now that he got older, but he was told it looked sophisticated and Shanks certainly seemed to like it. Benn enjoyed the feeling it gave, as well as the weight of Shanks on his chest.

The couch he was sitting on was old, but not uncomfortable, and Benn felt himself dozing off. He tried in vain to keep himself awake, a fear creeping up that Shanks might be gone again when he woke up. But when Shanks settled himself more comfortably against Benn, he relaxed and let himself be pulled into blissful oblivion.


	4. State of the Art

Thanks MyLadyDay for beta'ing

The fourth and final theme: Art

* * *

 **State of the Art**

Benn woke up with a stiff neck on an unfamiliar couch. As he rubbed the sore muscles, it took a moment to remember where he was. When it came to him that he had woken up in a bar, he had to chuckle, as that hadn't happened since he was in his twenties. However, the reminder that Shanks, once again, wasn't there when he woke up soured his mood.

With a sigh, he rose, wincing when a shot of pain went up his back. He was too old to be sleeping on couches, despite finally having had a good night's sleep.

He opened the door to the bar, where Makino was already preparing for customers. She didn't seem surprised to see him and greeted him warmly. Yasopp had gone home, it seemed, just like the students from the night before. As had Shanks, Benn thought bitterly.

"I thought you could use this," Makino said as she placed a plate with a hearty breakfast in front of him, along with a cup of coffee. "Oh, and Shanks asked me to apologise to you again for leaving."

"Again?" Benn frowned. Then, slowly, he remembered being woken up in the middle of the night, when Shanks had told him something had come up and he had to go. So perhaps that hadn't been a dream after all. That made it harder to be mad at him, as he had not snuck off again without saying anything, but that didn't mean Benn was happy about it. He was too old to chase people around, and he was definitely too old to be chased like a young maiden. He was looking for something nice and uncomplicated, which he didn't see happening with Shanks.

"You saw him?" he asked when Makino joined him with a cup of coffee.

She shook her head. "He left a note for me. Oh, and he wanted me to give you this." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"He asked you to do that?" Benn asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Well, he actually said on the mouth and 'don't go easy on the tongue', but that seemed a bit excessive to me." She sighed, before she added, "Oh, and it's from him, not me."

"Yeah, I got that." Benn dug into his breakfast with mixed feelings. All logic pointed to the fact that pursuing a relationship with Shanks was not a good idea. Too much of a hassle. But on the other hand, Benn was intrigued by him, and what's more, he was attracted to him.

Maybe he could use some excitement in his life after all.

* * *

The excitement had to wait, at least the excitement Shanks brought to his life, as Benn was onto something big. While he still wrote the same old columns in the paper, in his own time he had been working on a piece about corruption in the police force, and thanks to an anonymous source, he had found out it went much deeper than that. Politicians and even the government itself were involved in the scheme.

What exactly was going to happen, Benn hadn't found out yet, but he couldn't help but feel excited. If his source was right, something very shady was going on, and he was about to uncover it all.

The problem was that his source was anonymous, even to him. He had received letters signed R. that gave him some information. In part, he had been able to verify it, but other things were still unclear.

At work, he rushed through the columns he wrote – they still had a higher quality than most of the paper, anyway – so he could continue with his research. He had to keep it on the down low, though, as his boss couldn't find out what he was really working on. He would no doubt put a stop to it. He had tried before, when Benn came to him with the corruption story the first time. His editor had pushed the story aside so quickly and resolutely that Benn suspected he might be on the payroll as well. Of course, he had no proof for that. Not yet, anyway.

The person sending him the letters, R., either knew an awful lot about what was going on, or had a very vivid imagination and not much of a life. When Benn received the first letter, he had thought it was probably a joke, but his curiosity had been aroused.

When the second letter came, with more specific information, Benn had started to dig. He had contacted some sources he had used before, and while not everything could be confirmed, R. had some things spot on, which was why Benn was giving them the benefit of the doubt. By the time the third letter came, Benn was fairly certain he wasn't dealing with a joker. There were some things in the letters that made Benn think the writer was a conspiracy nut, but he was investigating nonetheless.

He only wished he knew who his source was, and how they knew all this. They had to be an insider to be privileged with this kind of information, and even then, they had to be able to get in everywhere. In the police station, in the town hall, even in the houses of ministers. This had to be a very high up person. But how did they know Benn? From his columns in the paper? Those didn't give him much of a name, as they weren't even on the front page – this Benn owed to the fact that his boss did not like him, even if he was the best journalist present.

Benn started to wonder if he was dealing with a very elaborate joke after all.

He couldn't come into contact with R. to ask questions, as there was no return address on the envelopes, nor was there any other indication to their identity. They hadn't even mentioned why they had picked Benn to investigate this case.

His boss had noticed him receiving letters, as they were sent to his work address, so Benn hoped R. would take a short break until things had settled again. He wouldn't put it past his boss to open his mail if Benn wasn't there, so he started arriving even earlier and staying later, just to be sure no letters could be intercepted. Finally, a fourth letter arrived, containing the words Benn wanted to see the most.

 _Mr Beckman,_

 _It's about time we get better acquainted, don't you agree? There is a lovely exhibition in the national museum. I, for one, will be visiting it Sunday afternoon._

 _R._

Since R. hadn't given any information what they might look like, Benn assumed they knew what he looked like. He wondered why, as there had never been a picture of him in the paper, but he would definitely be there.

Sunday couldn't come soon enough, and finally, Benn found himself in front of the national museum. It was rather busy, as a new exhibition had recently opened. After having bought a ticket, Benn waded through the mass of people.

He didn't pay much attention to the artworks presented – not that he could see much with all the people flocking around them anyway – but instead looked at the faces to see if any of them could be his source. He didn't even know if he was looking for a man or a woman, though. Based on the handwriting he might say it was a man, but that wasn't an exact science.

Benn wandered around the museum, pretending to look at the art. Hours passed, and no one had approached him about the letters. One time an old lady had tapped him on the shoulder, but it turned out he had dropped his brochure. He would have been surprised if she had been his source.

The halls of the museum became emptier and it was near closing time when Benn decided to go home. It seemed like he had wasted his day. Either his source had been joking the whole time, or they had chickened out at the last second. Or they had realised that they didn't know what Benn looked like after all.

Before leaving, he decided to go to the bathroom, which was empty aside from him. Benn walked over to the urinals.

"Hello, sailor," a voice suddenly said behind him.

Benn smiled, despite not having noticed someone coming in. "Are you here to appreciate the art?"

In the mirror, he could see that Shanks' eyes were firmly focused on his butt when he replied, "Oh, definitely."

Benn flushed the urinal and walked over to the washbasin to wash his hands. "As my ass isn't on display, I doubt that's what you're here for."

"Perhaps it is."

Benn wiped his hands on his trousers before turning around, his brows furrowed. "What are you saying?" When Shanks didn't reply, only flashing him a grin, Benn sighed deeply. "Don't tell me you're my source. Geez, if you wanted my attention, there are other ways to get it. Like not leaving all of a sudden."

"This is not a joke," Shanks said, his face earnest. He opened the door and gestured with his head for Benn to follow him.

Benn did so, as he had gotten curious. He had had too much of the information confirmed to think it was a joke, but how Shanks was involved was beyond him. Though, now that he thought about it, Shanks still hadn't disclosed much about himself, not even where he worked. Benn had a feeling he was about to find out.

"Shouldn't we leave?" he asked Shanks as they walked through the hallways, which were empty aside from a few security guards. Shanks just nodded at them.

"No, it's okay," he said. "I know the owner."

They walked through the hallway in silence, until Shanks suddenly entered one of the exhibition rooms. He sat down on the bench in front of a seemingly random painting, patting beside him.

"I love this painting. It's the Ophelia by John Everett Millais, do you know it?" he asked Benn.

Benn was surprised to find out that Shanks was an art lover. He shook his head. "Might have heard of it. Why are we here? Why did you send me those letters?"

"Getting straight to business, are we?" Shanks leaned against the wall and pursed his lips. "Remember on our first date you told me about the article you're writing about corruption in the police station?"

Benn frowned. It was a month ago that they has sat in the café, dripping wet from the summer shower. So he didn't remember everything he had said, but now that Shanks mentioned it, he had seemed interested in what Benn did for a living, more than most people would be. "So?" he finally asked.

"I was pretty sure back then that you were the right man for the job, but I needed to be certain. So I decided to send you some information, to see what you came up with."

"So, what? It was a test?" Benn asked, his eyebrows raised. He supposed it did explain why he was picked to pursue the story.

"I suppose you could see it as that."

"What for?"

Shanks rose and walked over to the Ophelia, leaning in a little as if examining it. "I don't think I ever told you what I do, did I?"

"From what I've gathered, you have to be an inside man in the government," Benn said.

"Sort of." Shanks turned to face him again. "The corruption in the government is well-known, but we only know that it's there, not where exactly and to what extent. You've come up with a lot of information in a short time, even things I didn't know yet. We could use someone like you."

"You're recruiting me to be… what? A spy?" Benn asked, still seated on the bench. "Also, I shouldn't ask how you know what I know, should I?"

"Spy is one word for it," Shanks said, conveniently skipping over the other question. "Would you be interested?"

Benn took a moment to think about what he had just heard. Being a spy did explain why Shanks kept disappearing and didn't share much about his personal life, but did he want to be one? It would certainly bring some excitement in his life. Additionally, he loved to chase stories and he didn't want to write tedious columns for the rest of his life.

"What if I say no?" he asked after a few minutes of consideration.

"Then I'll still ask you out," Shanks replied immediately, the grin back on his face.

"Oh really? And how many dates would that make?" Benn asked teasingly.

Shanks snorted. "You're obsessed with labelling everything, aren't you? But I suppose our fourth."

"Then this is a date as well?" Benn asked.

"We could turn it into one."

Benn let out a laugh. "You don't give up easily, do you?" He rose and held out his arm, which Shanks took immediately. "Then convince me to become somewhat like a spy on something that could be described by some as a date."


End file.
